Registration Date: 05-30-2013
Last Visit: 07-16-2013 01:19 AM
Total Posts 4
Played By: Swen

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10

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Age IV	Gender Male
Species Hybrid	Sexuality Straight
Mate	Pack Loner
Rank None	Alignment Luna

Relations:

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Other Info:

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Reference

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It was always rumoured that Jehan had been born of dark magic, a foul pairing between demon's for one with so much knowledge of them must have some affiliation with the beasts. He was considered handsome within Noven, the country of his birth, and still remained so after his departure to Adymeria.

With golden, glowing eyes Jehan is best known for his undaunting stare that seems to peer into the soul to destroy your darkest, most precious and guarded secrets. This same unrelenting gaze can also reflect hints of mercy behind their calloused demeanour though it is quite the rarity to see.

Though seemingly gruff, his pelt is no special blend of exotic hues and outlandish designs - as pure and untainted as freshly fallen snow, his coat is a pristine white. In fact, the only marking Jehan has is a black crescent moon upon his coral tongue branded into the tender flesh.

Bilva's corpse lie before me within a puddle of his own blood where he'd been left to drown - a fate worthy to those whom cohort with demonic spawn. Those who choose to control the hell-beasts, to fight along side them, choose to fight against our survival. It wasn't something I could sit by and watch any longer as innocent children were stripped of their parents and left to die within the smouldering carnage and putrid gore; only a man lacking any common-sense could continue to serve these precious lords of power and that is why I had to kill my brother. Even now as I stand before the disapproving faces of my parents and the justicar my only regret in slaying him was that I had shown him mercy for he deserved none. They called me a heretic, disowning me from the Hari name but I could care less about their dirty filth, I wouldn't want to be associated with them anyways. It wasn't until she walked in that my face grew solemn - I'd taken her husband from her but hopefully in the end she'd realize it was for the better good. After my tongue was branded with the mark of the traitor I left, glad to be away from the very monsters I wished to fight but it would not be the last time I saw them, oh no. Eventually I would end them all and put an end to this senseless bloodshed...the first three were dead before they hit the ground, the others weren't so lucky.

It seemed to go on for miles without an end leaving despair and misery in its wake; the scent of the rotting dead still fresh in their graves was enough to turn most away but I would not be so easily deterred - where death lingered demons always follow and I would not rest until every miserable hell-beast was slain. The air was warm, surprisingly so considering the thunder-heads that loomed heavenward in a menacing warning that went unheard as I approached the newly formed graveyard with a cautious pace.

Upon arriving at the borders not a single living face came to greet me and the only welcome I received were the bickering caws of ravenous crows picking apart their bountiful feast. Traces of blood stained the earth and hints of foul magic marred her figure - the pack had fought valiantly for their lives but their forces were not enough to keep the demon swarm at bay. It came as a shock to hear that the power of Paylla had fallen, their strongest warriors now lie in a shredded mess of their former selves. My steps were cautious as I went deeper into the fray, golden eyes alert and ears keen to any remainder of the attackers that might still be within the shadows waiting, watching for an opportunity for another free meal. As I came closer to the heart of Paylla the stench of decay became stronger and was enough to make my stomach churn. So many bodies were littered about the lands and had I not known what manner of beasts they’d been before the attack I would have never learned; the corpses were disfigured beyond recognition and it became hard to tell the difference between mortal and demon.

Suddenly I stopped for what stood before me was worse than anything I’d ever seen within my four years of life for in the wreckage of upturned stones and rent earth, of decaying corpses and feasting birds was the silhouette of my beloved mentor, Vimal.

Dark magic held his destroyed figure together but it was not enough to cloak the grotesque appearance of the living dead. Vimal’s eyes had been removed and all that stared back at me were empty pits of seemingly endless torture. How I longed to scream but all I could muster was a faint growl as hackles rose and fangs bore in warning to his new master - the demon would bleed for this crime and I would not be content until it writhed and begged, pleaded for mercy; I began to lose meaning of the word the longer I stared upon Vimal’s abysmal sockets. The figure of the once respected and highly revered man moved with a muffled groan, the sound enough to break whatever resolve I had managed to muster at this point. It was clear he was in pain and wanted, needed, the torture to stop. Golden eyes closed for a brief moment to respect the memory of the man I once knew as my teacher, the man who had taught me everything there was to know of these demonic hell-spawn and how to kill them - the man who showed me mercy when no others would. My eyes flew open to darkness - Vimal was already upon me. The scent of his body was overwhelming and almost enough to make me retch then and there as his flesh dripped upon my ivory coat but I remained strong, for his sake. “I will make them pay for this, each and every one of them.” And I would not rest until they lie dead at my paws.

The battle hadn’t lasted long as most fights against the living dead hardly did, this one had been no exception. My body was spent as I began to give a proper burial to the shreds of bodies I could find, silently mourning the death of a great man with each inch of dirt I moved and had it not been the rustle of the brush I would have continued digging until each body found its peace within the make-shift tombs. Hastily I swung my head in the direction to be met with the alluring eyes of yet another familiar face - the face of a survivor, of a long lost lover of yesterday. A subtle smile crept upon my face as she came forward, her figure intact and seemed unscathed from the dangers that had occurred here just days before. Eshita was mute for that moment where their eyes met and the old sparks flickered again. She was at a loss for words and I was content just to see that she was safe, that she had not succumb to the same fate as these other unfortunate souls. After minutes passed the silence broke and her supple tones lit the air with fear. “T-they will come. We aren’t safe, we’re never safe.”

She was in hysterics and ran to me, placing her face upon the comfort of my shoulder and I welcomed it. So long I’d begged for her touch but I only wished it was under different circumstances. “Let them,” Despite being close to the woman I revered so highly my voice was cold, stoic and devoid of any self-preservation for I wanted them to come so I could avenge those fallen. “there’s a bolt for each of their heads.”

Eshita grew rigid. “This is not a fight you can win, Jehan. It does…unspeakable things.”

“And those atrocities cannot go unpunished,” I shot back. “The demon and their master will suffer as others have under their hands.”

Her eyes were soft as she looked upon me, their meaning far deeper than the words she spoke. “Please…I cannot lose anyone else, Jehan.” I held her closer for a moment before the two of us began to make way to some form of safety before the sun began to set and the monsters made this world their playground.

A single flame burned low within the wood, the warm nothing compared to what I’d always felt from her. Even now, away from the carnage, she still remained that look of unwavering misery and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to help her but despite that, I tried. “Do you remember when we first met?” The crackling of the smouldering embers greet me as she seemed to contemplate her words.

“It was when we were younger, down by the river and the last was when you were renounced from your name and called a heretic.” She smiled faintly and I took it as a sign of progress.

“Despite having my tongue branded so everyone could see the lies I speak I was happy that day, truly. I no longer had to serve demon masters and I got to say goodbye to you.” I nudged the coals gingerly with care and watched as the sparks flew heavenward. “Hari was a rather laughable name anyways.”

The sound of her muffled chuckle was enough to warm any heart and mine was not free from the blessing; it held a ring of innocence as nostalgia began to flow between us like an open brook down the side of a towering mountain. Alas, like all good things it, too, came to an end and silence ensued. Minutes passed of us staring into the dying flames and midnight was making a fast approach. The air became brisk and chilled despite the fire’s efforts to provide warmth. “Vimal had decided that I should go to Adymeria in the morn to further my studies of the demons,” I paused, just speaking his name now brought back so many fond memories. “they say the demons are heading there but I’m not so sure.” Eshita remained silent with only her thoughts. “But after what’s happened the past few days in Paylla…I want you to come with me.”

“I can-” She sounded shocked that I’d even asked.

“You wont.” I retorted with a heavy sigh.

“I’m sorry, Jehan. Even though Bilva…died, I cannot leave him.” Her voice grew solemn, filled with the pain she refused to speak and I did not press for her to.

“I’ll take you back in the morning then, Eshita. I’ll leave for Adymeria when I know you’re safe.” And I kept my word to her though not a day goes by I don’t still think of her or of Vimal, of the life I left behind to purge the world of its evils...if it bleeds you can kill it, kill this one slowly.